


A Friend of a Friend

by StubbornDodecahedron



Series: Hot Disaster Dumbass Factory [8]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StubbornDodecahedron/pseuds/StubbornDodecahedron
Summary: A glimpse of what happened between Bro Strider and a troll in his past, and the complicated feelings involved.This is the NON-EXPLICIT version.
Relationships: Bro Strider/unnamed troll
Series: Hot Disaster Dumbass Factory [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1275281
Kudos: 10





	A Friend of a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> This is the non-explicit version. For the shameless version click [[Here]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800848)
> 
> Also do note that this take place in 1990 Houston Texas

He was a friend of a friend. You never hung out together alone but on occasion, you'd wind up sharing the same space. He was a troll, a purple blood that was too close to indigo to ever fully get respected by either caste. You had never asked and he had never said anything, but you would wager that that was to blame for why his horns were shorter than you’d expect for his age and had pointed silver caps at the ends. Unlike a lot of folks in your crew, he wasn't about making music. He was an artist. His specialty was cassette tape jackets. Later on, he would even do a few of yours. 

You aren't sure why you never hit him up before. He was cool to be around. Every time your social circles intercepted it had you a little excited. You told yourself that you just really wanted to be his friend. He was cool. You made excuses for why that didn't happen, why you never sealed the deal on that, just waited eagerly until your friend happened to invite both of you someplace. Usually, it was in a group. That day was different. That day you were tagging along with one of your boys to chill at his house. It didn't belong to just him but he had the whole basement. It was pretty dope. 

Another guy was supposed to show up but he bailed last minute. That left you three. You were mixing up some lean when your boy’s pager went off. He didn’t give that number out to just any fool needing a fix so it was no surprise that he peaced out and told you not to wait up. That left just you and your friend of a friend. 

He wasn’t opposed to sippin some texas tea but that day he was rolling a blunt. You watched his skilled hands artfully go through the motions and when he ran his tongue along the paper to seal it up, you found yourself licking your lips. Quickly you took another sip of purple stuff to cover it up. For a few minutes, you both shared the sofa while watching tv and waiting for your respective substances to start kicking in. At some point, you turned your head and started staring at him instead. You knew you shouldn’t be. It wasn’t smart. It wasn’t right.

“What up?” he asked you with a half-lidded gaze and a lazy smile. You shrugged and he laughed a light chuckle. “Shit hitting huh?” 

“Yeah.” He hit the blunt again, then let his head rest back against the couch exposing the curve of his neck. You watched the smoke curl and plume as he exhaled slowly toward the ceiling. If you weren’t so high, you’d have been nervous being alone with him like this. You would have also been holding your tongue and keeping those next few words an inside thought. “I know it ain’t exactly on the level to ask but could I, like, touch your hair?” It was different than yours, thick and curly and long. At a distance, some would have called it unkempt but you could tell he took care of it. 

“Better you asking than just doing. What’s so special about it making you wanna get your feel on?” he asked, turning to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged.

“Different. Here,” You took your hat off and ruffled your fingers through your hair before smoothing it out. “Have at it if you want,” you offered like it was some kind of cultural exchange. He smirked and leaned over, throwing his arm over the back of the sofa and reaching out with the other to slowly run his fingers through your hair. You hadn’t anticipated the way it would feel having someone else do it and practically melted. He trailed his touch down the back of your neck and lightly raked his claws up over your scalp. You couldn’t help the hushed stuttered breath you took.

“You know, Bro, if I didn’t know better,” he interrupted himself to take another hit but didn’t stop what he was doing to you. “I’d think maybe you in possession of better etiquette but couldn’t think any other way of getting me to touch you.” Smoke momentarily clouded your vision as he blew it in your face. His words took a second to process. The way he was waiting, he probably knew that. When they finally took on meaning, you mentally recoiled at the idea, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought he might’ve been right. You didn’t have time to react, or maybe you did but were just too high to realize it. His hand slid up your knee and it felt good and you felt bad about it feeling good, but it did. He leaned in close, waiting for you to pull away and cuss him out, but you didn’t, you couldn’t. You were paralyzed with several different emotions, primarily a mix of fear and lust that you would never actually admit to even yourself until it was far too late. He was so close, there were only inches between you. And then just like that, he was closer. He kissed you. His lips took yours slowly and gently. It felt good. It felt so good. It shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have been doing this. But you were. You kissed him back and felt him smile. He gripped your hair tight and a moan melted between you. You remembered that you had arms and reached out to grab him, holding onto his shoulder and his bicep as he eased you back against the couch. He was slowly climbing on top of you when he remembered that he was holding a blunt and laughed before taking one more hard drag and snuffing it out. When he came back down to kiss you, you felt him exhale into your mouth, filling it with smoke. Weed wasn’t usually your thing, but it was an okay additive to your poison of choice in small doses. He smiled against your lips when you took a deep breath in. Then he stuck his tongue in your mouth, dipping it in just long enough to mingle with yours but not long enough for you to properly respond. "What you wanting?" he asked low and close, so close that you could feel his breath on your neck.

"I-- I don't know." He started to move back but you curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt to keep him from pulling away. You didn't know what you wanted, but you didn't want that. 

"You never done--"

"I'm high as fuck." You technically didn't correct him. He wasn't wrong. You'd never been with a troll, but more pressingly, you'd never been with a guy. That shit wasn't right. That shit got your ass beat. That shit got you arrested. That shit got you strung up. Maybe even all three. Not that that was something you had to worry about because you weren't like that. You had been with plenty of girls. You couldn't be like that. And yet, you found yourself thinking that you had never gotten it up so quick. You were already past half-hard and all he had done was kiss you and get up in your space. "Gimme a sec," you said as you let go of his shirt to run a hand through your hair. He chuckled low in his throat and sat back on his heels. It was then that you felt Cal's eyes on you from where he sat on the coffee table. He was judging you, waiting for you to choose so he could form a verdict. He didn't like what you were doing but you hadn't quite crossed a line yet. You needed to get out of his sight. With an amount of confidence that was mostly feigned to save face, you propped yourself up on your elbows, looked dead-on into purple eyes, and gestured with an upward tick of your chin to his bedroom.

Damn did he do you right. Unfortunately, it would only make things more difficult.

Once you had both cleaned yourselves up and gotten dressed, but before you left his room, he asked if you wanted this to be a regular thing or if it was a "none of this ever happened and won’t again" kind of deal. It tied your stomach up in knots. Obviously, no one could ever know but you couldn't bring yourself to say it to him, not like that anyway. Instead, you told him to just keep it on the down-low. It wasn't the answer he wanted but it wasn't the one he was dreading either. 

When you got back to the living room, Cal was staring at you like he knew what you did. It was a knowing and threatening gaze. It made you heavy with guilt for days afterward. It would happen every time you got with that troll but you'd do it over and over again periodically. You were never his in the permanent sense but every now and then you'd hit him up to get high together and he’d fuck you so good. He'd fuck you like you were his. He'd take care of you. You'd leave Cal at home and deal with his disgusted ire and your own shame when you got back the next morning...and then for several days following that until he had seemingly forgotten all about it and stopped giving you that look. 

If things hadn’t been the way they were, maybe it could have been different between you and that troll. Maybe it could have been more than only those few nights where he wasn't just a friend of a friend. But it wasn’t that way and it couldn’t be that way. Cal told you so. He told you it was a deviation from how things were supposed to be, that it was wrong, that you would doom yourself if you kept doing that. It wasn’t the only place you had ever heard things like that before. Cal though, He said he could still save you if you listened to him, everything would work out if you listened to him. And he had always been there for you, he was your right-hand man, you loved Cal, you could trust Cal. He told you that and he could be very persuasive.


End file.
